


The Language of Space

by domesticheart



Category: Homestuck, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe (It's a what-if thing), space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:53:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4089415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domesticheart/pseuds/domesticheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jade Harley arrives at the threshold of Asgard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Language of Space

**Author's Note:**

> I liked writing this, Iunno.

On a bridge made of shimmering rainbow light that shone with the clarity of a million stars, an armored figure stood vigil. He was garbed in golden metal, an impressively curved helm upon his bowed head, and a sharp blade held before himself. Vast shapes of marbled color drift in the distance, outside the spherical dome in which he resides. A glittering golden city lay behind him, tall spires and intricately patterned pillars leading up to the steps of a palace. Solar-white stars shone a-glitter in all their heavenly finery behind the structure, seemingly swimming through a deep sea of scattered moon dust. Murky violets and blues spilled around the edges, staining the void.

Heimdall, the guardian warrior of the Bifrost that connects the nine realms of Yggdrasil, silently regarded the cosmos from his Observatory. Even the smallest flashing pinpricks in the darkness were not overlooked by his heavy gaze. Peering into the black, he can see trees bowing in the wind on the surface of Vanaheim, startling a brown downy bird's nest from the upper branches and sending powder blue eggs to the forest floor below. Muspelheim and its broiling surface are easily looked over, fearsome outbursts of white-hot flames and ejecta spearing the smoky grey vapor above and appearing to set it newly aflame.

Magic trickled like molten gold all through Alfheim, contrasting greatly with the dank, dreary bowels of Svartalfheim. Darkness looms at the corners of Heimdall's sight, wriggling like a thousand dismal limbs which retract and grapple with one another in the inky corners of existence, curved teeth gnashing beside thousands of staring, unwinking eyes. Beyond that lies something which Heimdall does not know, and perhaps does not wish to know of. It had been long ago when he had learned to no longer be sullen about that which he does not understand, especially when it came to gazing into the void. Because, as the saying goes, when one stares into the void, the void stares piercingly back.

A growing rumble began, culminating into a faint wavering in Yggdrasil's boughs. Some immense shape forms out of a gaping pocket in spacetime, retaking on a recognizable frame and allowing for the portal behind it to flicker and fold in on itself. He looks upon it with mystification swirling in his golden eyes, for it is a ship. A distinctly Midgardian ship in fashion and make, although he has never seen a vessel painted so garishly bright yellow before.

He looked upon the ship's deck and found himself looking into the face of a child suspended in the gloomy expanse of space. Her glittering green eyes are bright, lips curving upwards into a not unkind smile and minute stars traveling slowly through her long, dark hair. Heimdall takes a step back to better assess the visitor, armor clinking against the glowing surface of the Bifrost as the boat draws nearer, its single occupant staring wide-eyed at the surrounding realm. It is entirely possible, Heimdall muses, that this child is of another place entirely, and it is only by unfortunate happenstance that she has arrived so near to his post. He raises an arm to beckon her forth so that she may explain herself.

The child, after seeming mildly apprehensive for a moment, shuffles her red-slippered feet from where she is floating in the ether before coming to a decision. She kicks her feet to bolster herself towards the Observatory, pausing to extend her hands back towards her ship and make a peculiar hand motion. As he looks on, she slowly brings her hands together to shrink the ship down to a more agreeable size, green light crackling around her, and then beckons it so that it drifts lazily just over her shoulder. Then, she turns to face him, a subdued smile on her lips, and proceeds to approach in a bound of whirling skirts and glowing splinters of green. She lands before him at the very edge of the platform, and takes in the sight of the enormous gear-shaped mechanisms that adorn the walls.

"You know," she says, cheerily, still floating slightly in the air with her starry dress billowing around her. "I'd thought this was another version of Prospit, because of how shiny and pretty it is, duh, but you're not a carapacian at all!"

Heimdall tilts his head to the side, nonplussed. "This is Asgard, realm of the Aesir. I do not know this kingdom of Prospit, but I am doubtful that it is comparable to the grand halls of the one I am sworn to protect."

She pouts childishly at him, appearing displeased with this statement, but then brightens considerably nearly a second later. "My name's Jade Harley, by the way! I'm trying to get to a new universe but I guess I got a little lost." For the first time, Heimdall notices the canine ears that are now flattened against the side of her skull. They are the color of fresh snow, like the wingtips of a dove.

"Very well, you must be on your way then," he replies wisely, eyes once again distanced and focused on the matters of other worlds. There is silence in answer, and for a moment he believes that she has taken his advice and departed. But, it is not so, and there is a clanging noise from somewhere behind him that alerts him to the girl's continued presence. Heimdall turns his armored head to see the child tinkering with one of the gears.

Jade Harley looks up from where she is crouched beside the mechanism, hair frazzled from the green electricity circulating through the curls and her boisterous excitement. She beams at him, possibly hoping her enthusiasm and charming disposition will persuade him to let her remain at the doorstep of Asgard a while longer. Heimdall shifts his stance, appearing taller and more imposing against the drape of perpetual night behind him. "Lady Harley, I must ask for you to depart. Your continued interruptions are keeping me from performing my duty."

Her mouth forms a perfect 'o' as understanding hits. She places her ship in the air, nudging it out into the darkness with small twitches of her fingers. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I'll get right out of your hair then— hey, did you ever tell me your name?"

"Heimdall," he responded, returning to his earlier place. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her wavering uncertainly at the brink of empty void, expanding her ship once more. He sighs. "Perhaps you could return when the timing is better. For now, farewell."

The girl nearly barrels him over with a hug, like a living soul who has been starved of any kind of physical contact, and then she is back aboard her ship, waving joyously from the prow.

Heimdall spares her a smile, and then she is gone in a brilliant shower of verdant light.


End file.
